


He Knows we Know He Knows

by duc



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Secret Identity, or lack of therof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duc/pseuds/duc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gotham commissioner Jim Gordon and Batgirl don't have quite the same conception of secret identities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Knows we Know He Knows

It was during the Hot Month, the one that came before the children went back to school, August. Barbara’s father, the commissionaire, had been making a series of speeches around the city, and Barbara had asked Cassandra to guard him since she had heard whispers of an attack on her computer.

As usual Barbara had been right, and now Cassandra and the commissionaire were holed up in an abandoned… café? - somewhere they had served food- waiting for Batman to administer them the antidote to the toxin floating in the air outside.  

It was hot and Cassandra's cowl was hot and sweaty. Soaked strands of hair were clinging to her face. So she took it off, shaking her head to relieve the itch that had been driving her crazy for the last hour.

“Hey!” Commissioner Gordon hissed, arms flying in front of his face. “No. Put it back on.”

Cassandra blinked and looked around the ripped up room but she couldn’t see or sense anyone, Barbara hadn’t alerted her of anyone coming. No one to see her naked face that shouldn't. She didn’t understand.

When her eyes got back to him he had turned his back to her and was looking intently at the wall. “Put it back on” He said with words and with his body he screamed “I don’t want to look at you!” so loudly she put the cowl back before she could think about it. Damp sweat and all. His eyes darted to the side quickly and when he caught a glimpse of her masked face he relaxed immediately.

“Thank you,” He said, facing her again and settling back onto the broken chair the previous owner of the shop had abandoned. Cassandra frowned and was trying to formulate the best way to ask him why he had acted like that when she heard someone, Batman, climb into the second floor window and go down the stair into their room.

He put his hand on her shoulder when he came up to her and nodded to the commissionaire. “The gas is thinning out and all the civilians have been brought to safe places to wait it out. But let me give you the antidote so you can go back to managing the crisis yourself.”

“If you would be so kind,” The commissioner rubbed the back of his neck. “ I need to get back before Bullock shoots someone.”

Batman gave him the little vial with the antidote in it and they followed him until he was back inside a police car bound for the precinct. After that they got busy finding and stopping the man pumping poisoned gas all over Gotham and Cassandra forgot about his strange reaction until several hours later.

She was tired, the good kind of tired that came from having done a good job, and sitting in the passenger seat of the Batmobile. She was listening to Batman and Barbara and Nightwings. Nightwing must have come by the Watchtower to see Barbara, talking about the case and… -what was the word? The one where they fought with words but with a smile?-  Bantering.

“He wouldn’t look at me,” She suddenly said into the window.  

“Who?” Batman asked her, looking at her from his peripheral vision.

“Jim Gordon. I wasn’t wearing,” She gestured at her face. “And he wouldn’t look at me,” She frowned.  “I don’t understand.”

In her ear Barbara and Dick’s chatter stopped but it was Batman who responded first.

“Jim has always made it very clear he didn’t want to know our secret identities, Batgirl.” He said gently. “Our faces come with that.”

Cassandra frowned even more. That didn’t make any sense. “But he knows.”

Bruce was not surprised by her assertion. She had told him nothing new. “As long as he doesn’t have any concrete evidences,"he said easily " He doesn’t have to share his suspicions in court.”

“Or come and arrest us whenever someone decides to clean Gotham of vigilantes and we’ve got active warrants on our masks,” Barbara said. “Come to think of it, the F.B.I _is_ trying to get me right now.”

“The F.B.I? What do they want with you?” That was Spoiler. There were a lot of people in the clocktower tonight.

“To make me a job offer I can’t refuse.” Barbara said, dryly.

“No,” Cassandra shook her head vehemently. “He doesn’t suspect,” She knew what suspecting meant. Tim had gotten over all the nuances of the word with her. “He knows.”

Bruce nodded as if she had confirmed something he had known for a while. “As long as he doesn’t have concrete proof,” He repeated.

The Batmobile was on the stretch of country road that lead to the cave entrance. No need to watch the road closely now. He was looking at her, willing her to make a connection. Cassandra thought about it.

“Semantic?” She spat, half question, half curse word.

Bruce’s lips twitched upward to tell her “good job” His mouth said: “As long as we don’t say or do anything to obvious, such as removing our masks, then he can tell himself he only has suspicions and if he only has suspicions he doesn’t have to do anything about it.”

Cassandra dropped into her seat. “Ridiculous.”

“If that’s how he wants it…” Bruce said softly, so softly she almost didn’t hear. She could see, in his shoulder, in the way he held his head, guilt as clear to Cassandra as printed words were for Bruce and Barbara and Tim: "I've put him through enough," It said.

“Plus,” Dick started, and his tone of voice made Cassandra stands straighter. It was a laughing tone, a teasing tone. Not serious like the conversation had been seconds before. “It means you and him don’t have to talk about it.”

Cassandra wondered for a second which “you” he was talking about when Spoiler spoke again.

“You mean you guys never talked about it?” She said, incredulous. “Really?”

“Stephanie Brown...” Barbara said primly.

So she had been the “you”. Cassandra tried to picture it and couldn’t. Barbara was close to her dad. They made a point of seeing each other every week. How could you never….

“...I don’t see you being very forthcoming with your mother…”

“Oh, she tried once,” Dick said gleefully, cutting Oracle and Spoiler

Bruce drove the car through the waterfall and parked it in its usual spot.

“If memory serves, she was dating Black Canary at the time,”

“I know where you sleep, Boy wonder.”

“And she…” Dick started laughing.

“She chickened out midway and ended up coming out as bisexual instead.” Bruce finished for him.

“I know where you both… How do _you_ even know that?”

“League gossip.”

Under the sound of her own laughter, Cassandra heard a faint thud through her comm. It sounded like Barbara had banged her forehead against her desk.

**Author's Note:**

> just a little slice of life that was rattling in my brain.
> 
> I find the concept of "Jim is pretty sure/knows who the Batclan is, the batclan in turn is pretty sure/know he knows who they are, but no one acknowledges it straight on ever" to be endlessly fascinating and we really don't do enough with it.
> 
> I also figured that Cass, who barely understand why secret identity are usefull at the best of time, would have some trouble with said concept


End file.
